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Bad Hair Days and Other Misadventures

If you’ve never had a bad hair day, consider yourself lucky, and stop
reading now I’m so happy for you. Not.

One of the things on my bucket list is to have just one good hair day
in my life. Okay, maybe that’s exaggerating, but not by much.

One day in late spring, on impulse, I stopped in a salon in Seattle.
The stylist knew exactly what to do with my hair, leaving me to hope there’d be
more than one good hair day in my future. About two months later, I stopped in
the same salon, only to be informed that the stylist’s last day was yesterday. Lizzy
(not her real name) said she’d be happy to help me.

My first clue should have been when Lizzy left me with my head tilted back
in the sink while she went and chatted in the doorway with her friends. But
she was young and I was willing to overlook it in spite of my screaming neck.
Lizzy came back and wrapped my head in a black towel then ran back to talk with
her friends again, leaving me to stare in the mirror and wonder how she managed
to get the black towel to look like a tricorn hat.

Okay, I know. That should have been my second clue. And really, how
many clues does a girl need when it comes to important things like hair?

When Lizzy returned, she so graciously handed me the clue that should
have sent me racing out the door. Unfortunately I didn’t, and Lizzy made the
first snip with her scissors as these words fell from her lips, “Cute glasses.
I always forget to wear mine. I usually wear contacts. I’ve noticed I get
better tips when I wear them.”

Could I just say right now that I was trying to be nice and give a young girl the
benefit of the doubt? Oh, and did I forget to mention I wasn’t wearing my glasses at the moment? Lizzy asked me to place
them on the counter so they wouldn’t be in her way. It wasn’t long before I
wondered if there was another reason why she didn’t want me wearing my glasses.

The first thing I noticed when Lizzy handed me a mirror was that my
hair was longer on the right than the left. No problem. Lizzy promptly trimmed
it up until it was longer on the left than the right. But I could fix that
myself. No need to make the poor stylist feel bad.

And yes, I left a tip.

Unfortunately, I noticed
a few oddities the next morning. Not only was my hair still a little longer on the left side, I
had dozens of scraggles hanging down from the underside of my hair. But that
wasn’t the worst of it. My bangs were cut in a line so straight Lizzy must have
used a ruler while I couldn’t see what she was doing. Unfortunately, that
straight line went in a diagonal from the top right of my forehead to the outer
corner of my left eyebrow.

To make it worse, the right side of my bangs has more cowlicks than I
can count. Those were highlighted nicely still there.

Clearly they don’t have as many bad hair days as I do. Bangs grow when
they want to. Not when you want them to.

Oh, and did I mention this was just about four weeks ago? Two weeks
before I leave for a writer’s conference I’m planning to attend? Yup. One side
hasn’t quite caught up with the other. Perhaps, sometime during the next two
weeks, a hair miracle will happen.

Does anyone know of a “Miracle Grow” for hair?

If you’re planning to attend the same conference, please, whatever you do, don’t notice
my hair.

Also, if you’re shopping for evening wear, I have it on good authority you
should never pull a Spandex camisole over your head. For those not in the know,
once it makes it over your head, it snaps and rolls and tries to squeeze you tighter
than a boa constrictor before you can even blink – leaving you to stand
helpless in a department store fitting room with your arms straight up in the
air while you panic and try to figure out how to get yourself out of this
newest pickle.

Looks innocent, doesn't it?Don't believe it!

I tried to find some spiritual content to relate this to, but I’m still
feeling a bit humiliated by the Spandex camisole/dressing room hair salon incident. So
instead I’ll just say, I wish each of you good hair days and Spandex-free
camisoles.

True North, Suzie
Johnson’s second novel, will be released in January, 2014. Her first novel, No Substitute, a contemporary
inspirational novel, is out now from White Rose Press of The Pelican Book
Group. She is a regular
contributor to the Inkwell Inspirations blog, a member of ACFW, RWA, and is the
cancer registrar at her local hospital. Suzie and her husband live in the
Pacific Northwest with their naughty little cat on an island that is definitely
not tropical. Together, they are the parents of a wonderful grown son who makes
them proud every day – even though he lives way too far away. You can visit Suzie
at the following places:

Deb. I I used to have that frizzy wad of hair. Sadly, I know all about how it grows. I used to sleep with a bandana on to try and flatten it. Medicine I've taken over the years has helped with tthat. But still, no matter what I do to it, it looks the same. When we're in Indianapolis, it will probably turn into a ball of fluff, though, from the humidity.We have to stick together, you and I, and anyone else with frizzy cowlicks or other crazy hair issues.

Oh, Suzie, I'm so sorry. Reminds me of when I asked for "subtle highlights" and ended up with skunk stripes.

Then, when I went back a week later to ask the stylist to fix it (showing her the two inches of black at the roots of my hair before it was suddenly blonde (in that particular stripe), only to have her say that was how much it had grown out since she did it -- in a week? MY hair? ahem)she did it just the same.

A few months back I got my hair cut. Told the girl I wanted three inches off the length and then adjust accordingly becuase I didn't want to lose layers. I did momentarily pause when she finished in only a few minutes, but I had been texting and hadn't been paying attention to what she did. Got home to realize all the did was make a straight cut across the length. blunt cut that was, strangely, uneven. So I tried to angle up the sides a bit. Only made it worse. So for the folloowing months, I scrunched my hair when drying so it'd be wavy and then the uneaveness would be lesser notice than if I used a flat iron.

If I'd gone back to get it cut properly, my hair would have been far shorter than desired.

Its still better than coming out of the hair dresser looking like your grandfather!!! i told a little girl one summer not to be afraid to cut it,,,and gave her a picture front and back of how i wanted it cut,,no lie,,it was about 3/4 of an inch,,,all over,,,it took forever to grow back its the only summer in my life i wore makeup all summer not to be mistaken for a little old man,,,and when i could a hat!!! horrible i dont ever say those words in a hair salon "dont be afraid to cut it" :)

Gina! I can identify with fixing and making a bad haircut worse. I have totally done that before.

My most disastrous hair cut (at least it seemed that way at the time), was for my wedding. I was "talked into" a perm for my already curly hair. The stylist had a visitor and they started talking. I thought she said because of my "fine" hair, the solution should only stay on five minutes. After the timer rang and she didn't come back, I went to find her. By the time she got it all washed out, it was too late. My hair burned and broke off over the next several days. My hair was less than two inches all over. Luckily my mom's friend came to the church and made it look good for the wedding.

Hi Tana! I don't think I'd want to come out looking like my grandpa. He had very thin hair. In fact, I think the baby gorilla in the picture has more hair than my grandpa. Ohh, that is truly a disaster, Tana!

I cut my own hair these days. Partly because I'm horribly cheap, and partly because if I don't like it or it looks bad I can't lay the blame on anyone else. As much as I would like to grow it out and have long, luscious locks, I know it will never happen... my hair is too fine and too straight. I think whatever hair you have you want the other kind.

And I can completely relate to the Spandex trapped-in-your-own-clothes nightmare. Those camisoles should come with warning labels.

Niki, your hair is adorable. You look good with short hair. I can't believe you cut it yourself. Wow. Yes, warning labels on Spandex, please. In fact, the lady said if she knew that's what I was trying on, she would have warned me. Lol!

Ha ha! That was so much fun, Suzie. And I good reminder of why I cut and color my own hair. At least if I mess it up (someday ask me about the mislabeled hair dye incident) it was free and I only have myself to blame. With my long hair, pony tails and up-dos cover a multitude of bad hair days.

Dina, you have beautiful hair. You clearly know what you're doing. I colored my hair once. My sister-in-law told me I should color my hair for more body. I love her, but! Let's just say I looked like I had a bowl of straw on my head. Sigh. And the few times I tried to cut my own hair, I ended up making an emergency trip to the beauty shop.

Susie, you step into it like you would a swimsuit, and pull it up. It's very easy that way. Over the head ... after that particular battle, let's just say I couldn't raise my arm over my head the next day.

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